Just My Type
by SuperMegaFoxyAwesomeHot
Summary: Kurt hears Blaine likes elegant guys. This is kind of an issue.


**There is not enough klutzy!Kurt in this world.**

* * *

"Rachel, I need your help," Kurt said as he barged through the door to the loft one afternoon. "I have a _huge_ problem."

"Huge like a big paper you forgot to write, or huge like someone's dying?" Rachel asked from the stove. She grabbed a second mug and poured them both some tea before heading over to the couch, where Kurt joined her.

"Huge like I finally got more details on Blaine today," Kurt said, taking a sip.

"What? That's great!" Rachel said, genuinely enthusiastic. "Now you can make a move!"

"No, that's the problem - I'm not his type," Kurt said.

"Impossible."

"I heard Sam ask him point blank what his type is, and he finally came up with elegant. Elegant!" Kurt moaned. "It would've been better to hear he was straight."

"Kurt, have you ever looked in a mirror?" Rachel asked judgmentally. "You _ooze_ elegance."

"Yeah, until I start moving. Or did you forget about the Ice Skating Incident of 2012?"

"Oh. Right." Rachel pressed her lips together as awkward silence filled their living room. She brightened after a moment, though, saying, "So what if you just didn't move?"

"What?"

"You don't have classes with him or anything, right?" At Kurt's nod, she continued, "Then you can just _trick_ him into thinking you're elegant. If you're sitting at a table in the union or waiting for me outside a class…"

"Then I can be posed and ready without him realizing! Rachel, you're a _genius,_ " Kurt said, pulling her in for a hug. "Oops."

"Just avoid doing this around Blaine," Rachel said wryly, holding the now-sodden fabric of her sweater away from her torso. "And get me some stain remover?"

"I'm on it," Kurt said, setting down his mug carefully and heading off to the laundry room. He pretended not to hear Rachel snort when he knocked into their dining table on the way, figuring she deserved that laugh after having tea spilled all over her.

* * *

The next day, Kurt got to the coffee shop in the student union fifteen minutes earlier than usual, ready to enact his plan. Once he got his drink, he walked slowly over to the best-lit table, holding the coffee like it was a live bomb and heaving a sigh of relief once he was seated without a mishap.

"Alright, Hummel. It's game time," he muttered to himself, taking a deep, centering breath. "You know you look good, you know what angles flatter you. Just don't spill your damn drink before Blaine gets here and you'll be golden."

Still, he couldn't quite calm down all the way, so he texted Rachel a picture of himself asking fr reassurance.

 _You look HOT, babe! Blaine won't know what hit him!_

 **That's kind of what I'm afraid of. ;)**

 _Shh. You know what I meant._

 **He's here! Gotta go!**

 _Tell me EVERYTHING tonight or I burn your scarf collection! xoxoxo_

Kurt hastily pocketed his phone as Blaine walked down to his end of the coffee bar.

"Oh! Hi, Kurt," Blaine said, starting a little before smiling. "You're here early."

"Just ahead of schedule today, I guess," Kurt said, hoping his pleasant surprise at Blaine's awareness of his routine wasn't obvious. "Gives me time to actually sit and enjoy my drink."

Blaine's eyes went slightly glassy as Kurt took a swallow of his mocha, which Kurt hoped was a good sign. "I - uh."

"You want to join me?" Kurt asked, unsure of what answer would be better. He wanted to talk to Blaine more, but then he'd have to be hypervigilant about spills for God only knew how long. He could already feel his spine stiffening from how carefully he was watching his posture.

"I'd love to, but I have class in ten," Blaine said, looking so genuinely dejected that Kurt wanted to leap up and hug him, elegance be damned. "Rain check?"

"I never say no to coffee," Kurt replied.

"I'll find you later," Blaine said as his order was called out. "Right now I really do have to go!"

"Get to class, slacker!" Kurt yelled as Blaine scurried away, smiling when he heard Blaine laugh once on his way out the door.

 **Plan is going swimmingly, if I do say so myself.**

 _How could it not? It was my idea!_

 _:P Tell me everything! Are you banging yet? Will you name your first child after me?_

 **I'm pretending I never read that. See you tonight!**

 _KURT._

 _KURT!_

 _Fine. Ignore me. But you can't hide from me once we get home!_

* * *

"Kurt! Hi," Blaine said a couple days later. He shot a beaming smile at Kurt, who was leaning casually against the wall outside of Rachel's classroom.

"Blaine," Kurt said, smiling back. "How's it going?"

"Better now that midterm season is over. I thought my acting professor was literally trying to kill us."

"For me it was the dance midterm," Kurt said, making a face. "That class isn't my strong suit on a good day, but midterm stress just makes it hell on Earth."

"Wait, you have trouble in dance class?" Blaine asked, confused. "But you're so - I mean - oh God, how do I say this without sounding creepy -"

Blaine's babbling was cut off by the piercing shriek of the fire alarm, startling both of them.

"Was this scheduled?" Kurt asked, brows furrowing.

"I don't know," Blaine replied, just as concerned.

"We're going to diiiiiiiie!" a boy Kurt didn't recognize screamed, running down the hall at top speed. "Everybody run for your lives!"

Kurt and Blaine locked eyes in panic as doors around them burst open, spewing out people left and right.

"C'mon," Blaine said, grabbing Kurt's hand in his and propelling them through the crowd.

"Oh God - oh no - I'm so sorry!" Kurt said, more alarmed about moving than the actual fire. He crashed into more than one innocent bystander as Blaine navigated them through the halls, wincing every time and trying to call out as many apologies as he could. Just as they finally got outside and away from the rush of people, Kurt tripped over a crack in the pavement, knocking both him and Blaine to the ground.

"Oof!"

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, rolling off to the side as quickly as possible. "Oh my God, of course this had to happen to me, I'll understand if you don't want to plan that rain check now-"

"What? Kurt, I'm fine," Blaine said, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Just winded. Why would I not want to plan our coffee da - I mean, rain check?"

Blaine's slip of the tongue gave Kurt the courage to say, "Because I heard you like elegant guys, and as you just witnessed, I'm not exactly your type."

"You heard that?" Blaine asked quietly.

Kurt just nodded, biting his lip.

"Then, uh, you should probably know that that wasn't quite the truth," Blaine said, blushing and rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Sam knows I've been crushing on someone for a while now, so when he asked me what my type is, I panicked and said the first word that came to mind. I suppose it's not a lie, but...it was mostly just a cover."

"So what _is_ your type, then?" Kurt asked, apprehensive but undeniably hopeful.

"You?" Blaine responded, looking sheepish. "Sorry if that's a little forw- _mmm_."

Kurt couldn't help himself. He cut off Blaine's unnecessary apology with a gentle kiss, giddy with mingled happiness and relief.

"You really think I'm elegant?" he asked once they broke apart. "I just nearly trampled about twenty people and sent us tumbling to the ground in the middle of the courtyard."

"I told you, I panicked," Blaine said, laughing. "But yes, I still think you're elegant. Maybe not graceful, but elegant all the same."

"And _you_ are a charmer, Blaine Anderson," Kurt said, thoroughly besotted.

"Charming enough that you'd be willing go for that rain check right now?" Blaine asked, hopeful.

"Rain check? No," Kurt said, squeezing Blaine's hand. "It's a date."


End file.
